Blackwater Val
Ohh, my sweet Rainey’s back .
She had tattoos—Celtic knot bands around her right bicep and right ankle, and an image of rosary beads which lazily encircled her neck and draped serpentine down her spine—and holy Melba toast, how sexy he found them. Lawrie traced his fingertip along the pattern, keeping the rhythm of his thrusts smooth and hard and steady, traced the scrolling thorny rose vines which entwined the rosary beads themselves, on down to the ornate, double-barred Caravaca cross, tattooed right at the small of her back. He felt himself grow larger and he trembled, the familiar tingle in his sagging scrotum rising up into his abdomen; Lorraine’s muffled screams became one long satisfi
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